My First, My Only
by Wings of Stars
Summary: Just a plotless WAFF H/H fic. Easy enough.


A/N: Okay, this is the sequel to Christmas in the Car. And that is the sequel to Where Life May Lead. . . so, if you don't want to get lost, I suggest you read those first. You really don't have to, though. This story doesn't really lean on details from those two. Anyways, I own nothing, so don't sue me. I'm not worth the trouble.

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Hermione sighed, looking at herself in the mirror. She was done with all of her pre-wedding doubts. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was extremely happy with what she was doing. The only thing she was worried about now was how she looked.

"Mum, are you sure that I look okay?" Hermione asked, playing with the two ringlets that fell lightly against her cheeks.

"Hermione, I have never seen you look more beautiful than this," her mother assured her, helping her off of the vanity seat.

"I'm just so nervous," she cried, pacing around the room on the beautiful pink carpet, still without shoes on.

"If you want, you can back out now. No one will be angry," her mother said.

"It's not that. I know what I'm doing, and I'm happy with it. I just want everything to be perfect. This is the single most important day of my life," Hermione said quietly, still pacing.

"Everything will be fine, as long as you don't trip over those shoes of yours," she gestured toward Hermione's platform shoes. Hermione let out a little laugh.

She sat down again on the vanity seat, and began putting on her shoes. Her dad knocked on the door quietly and came in. Hermione sat up, finishing the process of putting on the shoes. "How many people came?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, it looks like everyone who was invited came. There are tons of people." 

"That is so helpful," Hermione replied sarcastically.

The next minutes came by so slowly, like the sand in the hourglass of time had gotten stuck, and the sand came down one grain at a time. Hermione was anxious. Soon enough, yet not soon enough, the music started playing, and her dad was walking her down the isle.

The breath in Harry's throat seemed to be caught. She looked wonderful, although to him, she always had. She seemed to glow as she walked. The smile she was giving him was the most beautiful he'd ever seen.

The wedding service swept by very fast, and before anyone knew it, they were already at the reception. Music was playing, and Hermione was dancing with Harry, enjoying the comfort of just being in his arms.

"Isn't it funny," she was saying, "that your mother is the one to raise you, and your father is the one to give you away to someone else."

"Do you think they're here?" Harry asked.

"Who?" Hermione asked as a reply.

"My parents. Do you think they're here?"

"Of course I do. Nothing could stop them from being here. Nothing," Hermione assured him. Harry's eyes almost began to fill up with tears. "No crying on your wedding day. I forbid it," she said, in a fake tone of anger.

"Hermione, I love you."

"I love you, too. You were the first person I've ever really loved, and lucky me, look what I've got," she took her head off of it's resting spot on his shoulder, and looked at him in the eyes. She smiled dreamily as she admired the way he looked in his tuxedo.

"It's more like, look what I've got," he said, putting his hand against her cheek. He ran his fingers down her bare neck and shoulder, back down to her waist. "You really do look gorgeous," he said, admiring her dress. It was white and form-fitting to her waist, where it puffed out like a dress that a princess would wear. Her hair was in ringlets and pulled up, crown-like, on the top of her head. There were two small ringlets that fell against her cheeks. 

"Thank you," she said smiling. "You look nothing short of gorgeous yourself."

Harry held her closer, and Hermione rester her head on his shoulder again. She breathed in the essence of him, contented, simply to be with him. "I'm happy that I ended up with you, and no one else," Harry whispered.

"Me too. I'm going to spend forever with my first love. My only love."

"Forever, and I can't wait."

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A/N: Short and sweet and to the point. Leave a review, but not a flame. Keep in mind that my fire-eating ferret will just eat it anyway. Anyways, yeah! 


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